


howlin' for you

by littleblacksubmarines



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Falling In Love, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, I REGRET NOTHING, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed, actual sleeping with each other, incorrect use of batting cage, incorrect use of left field wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 02:14:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20574770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblacksubmarines/pseuds/littleblacksubmarines
Summary: Michael Brantley has elected free agency.Michael Brantley has signed with the Houston Astros.or5 times Brantley and Breggie hooked up, and one time they actually slept together.





	howlin' for you

_Michael Brantley has elected free agency._

_Napoli said that he wasn’t even offered an extension - none of them were._

_I told you free agency is a broken system._

Alex’s phone dings as more messages from the team group chat flood his inbox, and he stops packing, setting down on his bed and staring at his phone. Alex certainly didn’t expect that to happen.

_You’re right, JV. It is a shame. He been with them a long time._ Alex types, hitting send. 

He finishes packing, and orders an Uber to the airport. He’s going home for a while, to see his parents, and to (hopefully) clear his head - getting run out of the building by Boston is _not_ how he thought the ALCS was going to go.

*

A few months pass, and Alex’s phone dings with a message from Verlander. 

_Did you see who signed with us today?_

_Yeah. That’s cool, he seems like a good dude. He’s a good player._ Alex types out, hitting send.

Michael Brantley. Alex certainly wasn’t expecting _that_ — for him to sign with the team that defeated his in the ALDS. There are certainly worse things that could happen, anyway. 

_If you’re available to come to town, a few of us are going to go to the press conference. It’ll be good to show our support and welcome him to the team._

_Yeah, of course. I’ll be there._

With that, Alex books a plane ticket to Houston.

1.

Spring Training starts, and Alex can’t help himself as he’s feeling _drawn_ to Brantley. How could he not? It’s Michael fucking Brantley: three time All-Star, silver slugger, Heart and Hustle Award recipient, _Dr. Smooth_. His swing is _flawless,_ and Alex already enjoys having Brantley behind him in left field. Beyond all that, he is _kind_ and _helpful_, always there with a pat on the ass or words of encouragement. Suddenly, Alex can’t get _enough of him._

“Hey, Mike?” Alex asks, approaching the batting cage where Michael is warming up.

“What’s up, Bregs?” Michael says, warm as the sunshine on Alex’s skin.

“I was wondering if you could help me with my swing sometime? Maybe show me a couple things to do differently, or just give me some insight?” Alex asks, hopeful.

“Yeah, of course. You just let me know when,” Michael smiles, and Alex has to suppress a shudder. 

“What about this evening?” Alex blurts, biting his lip as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

“Yeah, as long as no one has a problem with us being here after hours.” Michael winks, and Alex can’t help but smile.

“I’ll take care of it. Thanks, Mike!” He says, making a beeline for Hinch.

A few hours pass, and Michael and Alex are alone at FITTEAM Park; Alex talking a mile a minute about anything under the sun.

“I mean, the food in the visitor’s clubhouse of Progressive Field wasn’t bad, but dude, you will love the food at Minute Maid Park. Oh, and I’ll have to introduce you to Tamale Lady! She sells them in her van in front of CVS, but I swear it’s legit. Don’t even get me started on the “fuck yeah we open” lady, well, her name is Aoy. But anyway, I made Springer fucking go to Michigan with me to meet her.” Alex rambles, not even noticing that Michael has stepped behind him.

“Sorry to interrupt the chatting cage,” Michael smiles, kind, lighting up his face, “but move your hips like _this_.” 

Alex sucks in a deep breath at the feeling of Michael’s big hands on his hips, shifting them slightly to the left. 

“This way, you’ll have more leverage when you lean back.” Michael says, slowly removing his hands from Alex’s hips. Michael catches Alex’s eye and smiles softly.

Alex takes a few more swings, but he’s distracted. He can’t shake the feeling of Michael’s hands on him, or how _good_ it felt. Alex isn’t sure how many more swings he takes, his mind is _anywhere_ but baseball right now. Instead, he’s thinking of _what else_ he can do to get Michael’s hands back on his hips. Alex tries to steer his mind in another direction, but Michael has one hand on Alex’s shoulder and another on his hip.

“Try relaxing more here.” Michael says, tapping Alex’s hip, “and let your swing come from your core.”

“Yeah, okay, I can do that.” Alex breathes, and hopes he doesn’t sound as breathless as he feels.

His skin is _tingling_ where Michael had his hand, and he’s pretty sure he’s blushing. Alex can’t help but to imagine what Michael’s hands would look like on his bare skin; imagines himself shirtless and that Michael has him backed up against the left field wall, strong arms bracketing Alex in place. Imagines Michael kissing his neck, leaving gentle nips around his clavicle; his hands ghosting their way down Alex’s chest, thumbs brushing against Alex’s nipples. Alex can’t help but adjust his stance, trying to stick his ass out more. 

Wildly, Alex thinks of Michael opening him up, wonders if Michael would touch himself while he does it. Alex coughs, tries to focus on the baseballs that are coming his way. He has _got_ to get his shit together. Alex swings, and sends a ball flying over the left field wall. Michael whistles, low, says “Good job, Breggie.”

Alex _beams_ at Michael’s words, the nickname igniting a fire somewhere deep inside of him. Sure, people call him Breggie all the time, but hearing it in Michael’s deep rumble? Alex would do _anything_ to hear it again, and his mind races, and Alex just can’t _stop_ himself. He wants — he _wants..._

“Everything okay?” Michael starts to ask when Alex takes a step forward.

“Can I suck your dick?” Alex blurts out before he can stop himself. 

_Well, shit._

“Right now?” Michael stares at Alex, a neutral look on his face. 

Alex nods.

Michael takes a step forward, grabbing Alex by the hips again, and pulls him close. 

“I gotta say,” Michael whispers, low, bringing his mouth to Alex’s neck, “I do wonder what else that mouth can do.”

Alex _moans,_ dropping to his knees, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Michael’s team-issued shorts, pulling them down. Michael’s half-hard dick bobs out, smacking against his stomach, and Alex _grins._ _He_ did that, _he_ made Michael feel like that - it’s a heady sensation.

Alex doesn’t waste any time running his tongue over the head of Michael’s dick, lapping a few times, letting out a gasp when he feels Michael hardening under his touch. Alex quickly wraps his lips around Michael and takes him fully into his mouth, not missing the sigh that Michael lets out. Alex keeps his hands on his legs, bobbing his head up and down, taking Michael deeper each time. He looks up at Michael through thick eyelashes, and places one of Michael’s hands on his head.

“You can pull my hair, I like it.” Alex explains, voice rough, before taking Michael back into his mouth.

Michael weaves both of his hands into Alex’s dark hair, tugging gently, and Alex makes a noise around his dick that makes Michael groan, low in his throat. 

“Shit, baby, you’re good at this.” Michael praises with another tug on Alex’s hair. 

Alex _knows_ he’s good at this, and he has an idea of how he looks on his knees, looking up at Michael. He’s hard, and he knows Michael can see the outline of his dick in his shorts. Alex can’t help himself as he presses a palm to the front of his shorts, trying to alleviate some pressure before he _explodes_, and he moans softly around Michael’s dick, and Michael groans.

“This okay?” Michael asks, thumb at the corner of Alex’s mouth.

Alex nods, and Michael continues the light thrusts, his breath hitching softly every time Alex swallows around him. It isn’t long until there’s heat coiled low in Michael’s stomach, _fire_ running through his veins, and Michael tugs on Alex’s hair and mumbles his warning.

“_Fuck,_ Breggie, baby, I’m gonna come.”

Alex _shudders,_ and Michael pulls out, streaking Alex’s face with a sigh. Smoothly, Michael drops to his knees and kisses Alex, his big hands working Alex’s shorts down. 

“Fuck, oh, _fuck_.” Alex _whines,_ arching into Michael’s touch.

“Yeah, that’s it. You gonna come for me, baby?” Michael asks, voice husky, thumb rubbing circles on the head of Alex’s dick.

Alex comes with a _yelp,_ and then Michael’s tongue is on him, _soft,_ cleaning him up. Alex thinks he may have died and gone to heaven.

2.

The season is underway, and Alex is just having himself a _time_. He’s playing great - they all are - and he really thinks that this could be their _year_. He and Michael have hooked up a few more times since Spring Training, and maybe most importantly: Alex got to introduce Michael to Tamale Lady, and yes, Michael agreed that his life was changed by her tamales. Priorities. 

Even though the season has just begun, Alex _really_ enjoys Michael Brantley. He’s an excellent player, a truly great guy to have in the clubhouse. He helps whoever needs it, _including_ his old teammates. In fact, just a few weeks ago, Alex walked into the film room to find Michael sitting in there, FaceTiming Francisco Lindor; discussing Frankie’s calf and ankle problems, and offering words of encouragement. There was a warm feeling sitting in Alex’s chest for quite some time after, and Alex still can’t put a finger on _what_ that feeling is.

*

The Indians come to town, and Alex notices a subtle shift in Michael’s attitude. He doesn’t seem as happy, and his smile isn’t as wide as it normally is. Still, Michael is still a warm and encouraging presence during BP, singing praise and offering advice when needed. Alex can’t help but watch when Michael goes to hug Tito, the two talking softly. All of his old teammates swarm him with hugs and pats on the ass, and their laughter echoes through the dome. Jason Kipnis straight up _buries_ his face in Michael’s neck, and Alex notes how _tight_ Michael is holding onto Kipnis. Alex’s mouth dries out, and he tears his eyes away, choosing to drape himself all over Springer. 

The next afternoon, Alex is pulling into the park on his motorcycle, when he sees Michael and Jason Kipnis getting out of Michael’s car, heads thrown back in laughter. Alex can’t explain why his heart drops, and he certainly can’t explain the _feeling_ that washes over him. He can worry about that later, anyway, because for now, there’s baseball to play. 

*

“Do you want to come over tonight?” Alex asks Michael after the game, hopeful.

“Sure. Do you think Tamale Lady is still there?” Michael asks, pulling his shirt over his head. 

Alex watches him for a second, rapt, before checking his phone. “She might be. If not, there’s always the food truck.” 

Michael smiles as he pockets his keys and wallet, watching as Alex does the same, and his eyes fall on Alex’s helmet. They head to the players’ lot, and Michael stops next to Alex’s motorcycle, a _look_ on his face that Alex hasn’t seen before.

“You be careful driving.” Michael says, a gentle hand on Alex’s elbow.

Alex just _beams_ as he puts his helmet on. “I will. See you at Tamale Lady’s.”

As Michael walks to his car, Alex roars his motorcycle to life. Even as he pulls out onto the road, cracking the throttle open, enjoying the rush of the air around him, he can still feel Michael’s gaze on him. Alex grins for _at least_ five minutes and doesn’t acknowledge why.

Later, when Michael is unboxing the tamales and Alex is pulling a couple beers out of the fridge, Alex can’t help the word vomit coming out of his mouth.

“Have you been sad because your old team is in town?” _So much for delivery,_ Alex thinks to himself as he extends his arm to offer Michael a beer.

“Yeah.” Michael answers bluntly, taking the proffered drink. “I was with them for ten years. That’s a long time, and I’ve been through a lot with that team. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy playing for the Astros and I’m grateful for this opportunity, and you’re a great group of guys.”

“I guess a part of me always thought Kippy, Chiz, and I would retire from Cleveland.” Michael says wistfully, “But that’s the thing about life. You never know what’ll happen next.”

Alex can’t bring himself to look away from Michael’s eyes, and maybe Alex is imagining things, but he swears that they’re a shade darker than they usually are. Instead, he nods, taking a sip of his beer. Suddenly, Alex _gets_ it. That explains this afternoon, and he mentally chastises himself for feeling… _some_ type of way about the situation.

Alex, still young, has been with the Astros his entire career. He’s never been traded - doesn’t know how it feels to be taken away from his best friends and placed somewhere new with people you only half-know, and have to relearn names, and these people’s _personalities_ and their _quirks,_ not to mention spouses and children. Briefly, Alex thinks of how he felt when Joe Musgrove was traded, and how Joe had hugged him close for _at least_ five minutes the first time that they had seen each other since the trade.

Gently, he bumps Michael’s calf with his foot, smiling at him over the table. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here.” 

Michael smiles, ducks his head slightly, and says “Me too.”

*

Alex was _hoping_ he would get laid, but he never _expects_ it. Now, after finishing dinner with easy conversation, and some making out on the couch, he finds himself on his back in bed, writhing with Michael’s fingers inside him. 

“I bet that you could come just like this.” Michael says, curving his fingers up, earning a sharp moan from Alex. 

“Fuck yeah, I could come like this.” Alex says, mouthy as ever. “I could come in my shorts during batting practice if you looked at me too hard.”

Michael grins; adds another finger. “Tempting.”

Whatever reply Alex was thinking of gets cut off by the whine he lets out. _“Mikey, please.”_

Michael smiles softly, almost _fondly,_ and pats Alex’s hip. Alex rolls over, raising his hips. Michael slides in behind him, pressing a kiss to Alex’s tailbone, earning a groan. Michael slowly sinks into Alex, a deep rumble in his throat. Alex sighs, a litany of “yeah, please, oh, please fuck me,” coming from his mouth in short gasps.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Michael says, voice deep, as he mouths at Alex’s shoulder. 

Alex shudders, his words getting caught in his throat as Michael quickens his pace, thrusting into Alex harder. Alex feels Michael grab his dick, stroking gently, and gets lost in his touch.

“What’re you thinking about?” Alex asks, hearing a soft moan come from Michael.

“How good my dick looks in your ass.” Michael says, pulling out slightly and adjusting his thrusts.

Alex just _moans,_ he can _feel_ it coming, all the way in his toes. Michael’s still talking, white noise in Alex’s ears, talking about how _good_ Alex is; how _good_ this feels. Michael sits up, pulling Alex with him, fucking into him deep and kissing his neck. 

“Come for me, Breggie, baby.” Michael whispers against Alex’s neck, and Alex comes with a high-pitched whine. 

Alex wants to ask Michael to stay the night, but instead, he just kisses Michael goodbye at the door; wrapped in his comforter, and watches Michael until he gets in his car and backs out of the driveway, driving down the street to the stop sign. Alex locks the door and shuts the porch light off, and crawls back into bed, wrapping the comforter around himself tightly.

Why did he _want_ to ask Michael to stay the night? They’ve never done that, never _talked_ about it. Besides, isn’t there some kind of bylaw concerning sleepovers with fuck buddies? Still, as Alex closes his eyes, he can’t help but wonder what Michael Brantley would feel like next to him in bed.

3.

Alex is the everyday third baseman, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. But, occasionally, even he needs a day off. Thankfully, day games are good for everyday players to take a break. 

_I want you to fuck me against the left field wall,_ He texts Michael, who sends back the eye emoji. 

_I told Hinch that I need a day off,_ Alex offers by way of explanation. As an afterthought, he adds: _if we go now there won’t be anybody there. People don’t start showing up for day games until like 10. It’s only 8._

_K. see you soon,_ Michael adds, with the heart eye emoji at the end. Alex flushes, texts back the kissy face emoji, and grabs his helmet and keys, shoving his wallet and phone in his pocket before he can put too much thought into _that_. Alex arrives at the park quickly, and, as he had suspected, there are no other cars there. Soon after he makes his way into the clubhouse, Michael clears his throat to announce himself.

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days, texting me stuff like that while I’m trying to cook breakfast.” Michael smiles, leaning against the doorway.

Alex smiles, shrugs, and says, “Been thinking about it for a while.”

Michael grins. “I’m flattered.”

*

Alex will admit it - he’s a bit of a freak. Loves public and semi-public sex; loves the thrill that they might get caught. Michael picks him up with strong arms, pinning him against the left field wall, bouncing Alex on his dick as he pleases. Alex _loves_ it, loves how Michael can hold him up like this, loves that they might get caught; most of all, he _loves_ that Michael is just as into this as he is. 

“What would you do if someone came in and _saw_ us, saw how good you take my dick? What if someone heard us, _heard_ how loud you are for me?” Michael asks, low in Alex’s ear.

Alex comes hard and with a gasp, whining Michael’s name. “That’s what I would do,” Alex says, because he’s a little shit, and Michael comes with a quiet groan.

Later, when Michael is roaming left field and sees Alex leaning against the railing, dark eyes on Michael, he can’t help the grin that splits across his face. 

4.

They’re _All-Stars_. Alex can hardly believe it - his second year in a row, _and_ he gets to participate in the Home Run Derby again! Alex jokes with Michael, saying he should be in the Derby, and Michael laughs, says he’s too old. The parade is nice, and their hotel has a beautiful view of Lake Erie. 

That night, after the Home Run Derby, after standing in the shower until Alex thought he was going to fall asleep right there, he crawls into bed. As soon as he’s comfortable under his pile of blankets, the air conditioner whirring away, there’s a soft knock on his door. Alex _knows_ that knock, and he’s up and out of bed, comforter wrapped around him; letting Michael into his room.

Michael smiles, cupping Alex’s face in his hands, pulling him in for a kiss that’s probably just _this side_ of too _soft_ and _gentle_. He backs Alex to the bed, kissing him and guiding him with strong hands, tells Alex to lie on his stomach. Alex complies, _easy,_ and Michael pulls something out of his pocket, which Alex assumes is lube. Alex tenses, expecting to feel Michael poking at his entrance, but instead, Michael’s hands find Alex’s shoulders. 

“Hmm?” Alex asks sleepily, the feeling of Michael’s hands working down his shoulders and back _grounding_ him.

Michael’s hands glide so _smoothly_ down Alex’s bare back, and it dawns on him that Michael brought _massage oil_. Michael _planned_ this. Alex’s head spins with the realization.

“Wanted to do something nice for you, since you did so good in the Derby.” Michael explains softly, digging his thumbs into an admittedly sore spot on Alex’s shoulder.

Michael’s hands feel _good_ on Alex, and Alex loses himself in Michael’s touch. He closes his eyes and lets his mind drift.

Just as Alex starts to doze off, he wakes up to the feeling of Michael kissing his way up Alex’s thigh, and lets out a whine. “Oh, good, you’re awake.” Michael smiles.

Alex nods, rolls over and sits up, letting his blanket drop around him; erection proud and shameless between his thighs. He looks down, and back up at Michael, giving him a coy grin. Michael grins back, grabbing Alex’s hips and placing wet kisses down his stomach and thighs, and Alex falls onto his back with a soft _thud_.

_“Mikey, please.”_ Alex whines, he’s so _hard_ already, and he knows he can usually get what he wants when he says that.

“Patience, Breggie baby.” Michael huffs, warm breath against Alex’s skin, and _holy fuck_, Alex thinks, _I know what’s gonna happen._

Alex can hardly hold back what can only be described as a _scream_ when he first feels Michael’s tongue glide across his entrance. “Easy, baby.” Michael mouths against Alex’s skin.

Alex _whines_, he honest-to-god thinks Michael may be trying to kill him right now. He rolls his hips down, breath coming in short gasps as Michael starts working his tongue inside. Alex is moaning loudly, unable to hold it in. He almost doesn’t hear Michael murmur, voice low and husky, “God, Breggie, _look_ at you.”

“Mikey, _please_.” Alex whines again.

Michael takes Alex’s dick into his hand, rubbing his thumb over the tip, sending _shivers_ down Alex’s spine. He pulls his head back, looks up at Alex, asks “You gonna come on my tongue?”

“Fuck, yeah, Mikey, want this, _want you_, _need you_.” Alex whines, “Been thinking about this since I _met_ you.”

Michael works his tongue back into Alex, and he comes with a high whine. Alex doesn’t have the heart to be appalled about what he said - and Michael, bless his heart - doesn’t bring it up, he just gets a washcloth, cleans Alex up. Alex’s eyes are heavy and he wants to fall asleep immediately, but he still reaches for the waist of Michael’s shorts, an eyebrow raised in a silent question.

Michael shakes his head, smiles, and kisses Alex’s forehead. Alex is asleep before Michael even clicks the door shut.

*

The next day, Alex smiles as Michael reunites with Tito and the guys once more, and gives Carrasco an extra-long hug; murmuring something as Carrasco wipes his eyes. Lindor hangs on every word Michael says, follows him around as much as he can. Alex briefly wonders if it was ever like _this_ between the two of them, but then he remembers that night at his house when Michael had opened up about missing his old team. He’s sure that if he or Verlander ever got traded, Alex would act the same exact way.

The game is underway, and Alex is just having the time of his life. He gets a base hit, and as he stands at first base, he watches Michael Brantley step to the plate. The crowd is absolutely going _wild_ for him, and Michael _knows_ it, _every_ emotion displayed on his face. He hits that double, and Alex sprints around the bases, huge smile plastered on his face. His heart is _pounding_ and as he crosses home plate, he can’t help but look back at Michael on the field.

It’s then that Alex has his _moment_. He definitely _likes_ Michael, hell, maybe he _loves_ him. Suddenly, it all makes sense - it explains why he follows Michael around like a puppy, the way his heart does backflips when Michael hits a home run, the stupid, irrational jealousy over Jason Kipnis. _Huh._ Okay, it’s not like Alex didn’t _know_ he had these kind of _feelings_, he just never _acknowledged_ them. Alex tamps these feelings down, though, because there’s baseball to play. He can worry about things on the plane ride home.

*

The American League gains another win, and Alex would be lying if he said he wasn’t hanging around Michael during his post-game interviews. He couldn’t help himself, and beyond whatever it is that Alex _feels_ for Michael, he is _genuinely_ happy for him. This was Michael’s _home_ for ten years, and this is a _great_ homecoming for him. It’s then that Alex realizes just how much he loves his _own_ team, and would gladly be an Astro for life.

Later, on the plane ride home, Alex looks across the aisle at Michael; he’s leaning against the window, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up. Everybody seems to be asleep, but Alex isn’t the biggest fan of plane rides, and finds it hard to relax at all. It feels like Alex is having an out-of-body experience as he thinks about his future, not just his career, but his life off the field as well. Baseball is the most important thing in his life, but the more Alex thinks about it, Michael Brantley is rapidly becoming the _second_ most important thing in his life. It’s quite the realization. Everything Alex _wants_ in life, he wants _Michael_ right there with him.

Alex brings himself to look away from Michael, and focuses his eyes on the window, staring into the night sky. He hasn’t known Michael for very long, so _why_ is he feeling this way? He’s not the type of guy to fall for someone quickly, he never has been. Alex takes his iPad out, and scrolls through all of the photos that the Astros photographer takes. He lingers on a picture of him and Michael, takes stock of Michael’s kind eyes and his own excited expression. 

Alex thinks of a conversation he once had with his mother when he was young, maybe five or six. _Why are you and Dad married?_ He asked, sitting at the table, helping his mom make cookies. _Because we love each other, honey._ She said, and Alex remembers the soft smile on her face. His parents _do_ love each other, and that is still abundantly clear, even all these years later. _What’s love like? Is it like when you tell me you love me?_ He pressed, pausing from scooping the cookie dough onto the baking sheet. 

_That’s one type of love. There are many different kinds. The way I love you is different from the way I love your dad, and the way I love your Nana, and my friends. You’ll know when the right one comes along. Love is love, baby. You can love anybody you want to._

It’s not that Alex has never loved someone before, but he’s just never felt _this_ way. He sighs, opens up Spotify, and puts his headphones on. It’s still a few hours until they make it to Houston, and Alex might as well listen to some Pink Floyd and come to terms with the fact that he’s _in love_ with Michael Brantley.

5.

It’s the last day of the break, and Alex’s phone dings with a picture from Michael. It’s a picture of his grill, with steak, chicken, peppers, zucchini, and what Alex assumes is corn wrapped in aluminum foil. One of the things Alex was most delighted in learning about Michael Brantley is that the man is an excellent cook. Before Alex can reply, Michael sends another text.

_You should come over if you’re not busy._

Alex is definitely not busy. 

_I’ll be there in a half hour :)_ he sends back, and is quickly in the shower, letting himself _embrace_ the warmth in his chest.

*

Michael is in the process of putting everything on the grill when he hears the familiar sound of Alex’s motorcycle roaring down his street. He crosses through the kitchen and living room, stands on the porch with a smile as Alex pulls in his driveway. Alex cuts the engine, takes his helmet off, and returns Michael’s smile. 

Michael gets himself another beer, passing one to Alex, and they settle on the back porch. Michael’s wearing gym shorts and an old, feather-light Cleveland shirt, grilling barefoot, telling Alex about the Party at Napoli’s; and Alex thinks he has never looked _better_. They eat dinner on the porch, drinking beer and laughing at dumb stories, Michael talks about what it was like growing up as a kid whose father played baseball; Alex about playing travel ball with Blake Swihart and their friendship. 

The sun sets, and Alex realizes he completely lost track of time, sitting there laughing with Michael. “It’s getting kind of late.” Alex mentions, standing up, “I should probably get going. Thanks for having me over, I had a lot of fun!” 

Alex stumbles: he must be more tipsy than he thought.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Michael asks, standing up and grabbing Alex’s elbow to steady him. “We’ve had a lot to drink, and you said you were drinking on an empty stomach.”

He’s right. “Um, yeah, I’m okay.” Alex says, trying not to lean into Michael’s touch, “I just can’t get pulled over.” He giggles.

Michael frowns, and Alex’s heart sinks in his chest.

“Please stay.” Michael murmurs, “I don’t want you getting hurt, and I don’t want you to hurt nobody.” 

Alex quickly agrees to stay, and Michael smiles. Alex smiles too, and he knows he’s _done_ for.

*

Michael guides Alex through the house, big hands cupping Alex’s face as he kisses him. Alex feels as if he’s floating when Michael lays him down on his big bed, crawling overtop of him. Michael kisses him deeply, removing their clothes quickly and with ease. Alex pants as Michael works him open with slick fingers, shamelessly grinds on Michael’s fingers, and begs, “Please, Mikey.”

As usual, Alex gets what he wants, groaning as Michael sinks into him. Michael covers his body with his own, trapping Alex’s dick between them. He holds himself up with one hand, and has a grip on Alex’s hip with the other. Alex whines, throwing his head back when Michael starts to kiss his neck. “Bring your knees up some more if you can, baby.” Michael whispers into Alex’s neck.

Alex complies, and Michael leans back, taking one of Alex’s legs with him, wrapping it behind his shoulder. 

“This okay?” He asks, thrusting gently.

Alex _groans_. It feels _amazing,_ Michael is so _deep_, gently hitting that _spot_, and Alex wants _more_ of it. Michael isn’t moving, though, because he wants Alex to _say_ it.

“Fuck, Mikey, so good, _please_,” Alex whines, and Michael gives Alex what he wants.

“You’re so good for me, Breggie, baby.” Michael says, his deep voice starting a fire in Alex’s stomach. “You take me so good, and you make me _feel good_.” 

Alex whines, arching his back. If he only _knew_ how he made Alex feel. 

“I know you wanna come for me, I know you’re close.” Michael leans down to whisper to Alex, tugging on his dick, “Let it go, baby.” 

Alex comes hard, his body curving up off the bed. Michael pulls out, adds to the mess on Alex’s stomach. Alex thinks his soul left his body, and almost falls asleep as Michael drags a warm washcloth across his stomach.

Michael gets back in bed, pulling Alex close. He tenses, then relaxes a second later. They’ve never really cuddled before, and he’s never stayed the night with Michael. It’s not for a lack of wanting to, _God_, Alex _wants to_ every time they hook up. He just never knew how to bring it up, wasn’t sure how Michael would react. He knows how he feels about Michael, but does he feel the same way? Alex knows he should bring it up sometime, but to be honest, he’s afraid of rejection. What if Michael just thinks this is friends with benefits? Before he put much more thought into it, Michael’s voice interrupts him. 

“I’m glad you came over. I had a lot of fun too.” He mumbles sleepily into Alex’s hair, and Alex smiles. 

He falls asleep with Michael spooning him, and doesn’t ever remember a time where he felt this _content_.

+1

September rolls around, and Alex texts Michael on their first off day. _You busy today?_ He makes a cup of coffee while he waits, and Michael texts back that he is not busy today.

_You wanna go explore? I’ll pick you up._ Alex sends, feeling hopeful.

_Sure :)_ Michael sends back, and Alex feels giddy.

*

They eat breakfast at Alex’s favorite hidden gem of a diner. Alex puts up a small protest when Michael grabs his check, but Michael waves him off, and his heart does somersaults. Alex wants to check out the aquarium downtown, he was there last year with Springer and Altuve; it’s cool enough that Alex would go more often, and he thinks Michael would like it. They take a selfie with the white tiger sleeping in the background, and another with a jellyfish in the tank, the colors illuminating their faces. Michael’s smiling wide, that rare smile that not everyone gets to see. 

They get lunch from a food truck, eating in a nearby park, at a picnic table under a tall oak tree. Alex has always enjoyed people-watching, and when he was younger, he used to make up different stories for different people. Alex, as usual, is the one to break the comfortable silence.

“I really like this tree,” he starts, “Partly because it reminds me of you.”

Michael looks at him over his sunglasses, too engrossed with his burrito to say much.

“It’s… big, and quiet, and dependable. Always here when you need it.” Alex smiles softly, his heart leaping in his chest.

Michael puts his burrito down, giving Alex a smile that he’s never seen before, one that makes his heart _jump_. Michael doesn’t say anything, however, just bumps their shoulders together, and that’s good enough for Alex. They finish eating, talking about their favorite cities to visit and what ballparks they think have the best view and surroundings. Alex drives Michael home, and Michael offers to cook Alex dinner. Once again, they find themselves on the back porch, Michael standing in front of the grill. Alex sits at the picnic table, talking a mile a minute and snapping peas. It’s so _domestic_ that Alex’s heart throbs, and not for the first time, has never been so _sure_ that this is what he wants in life. 

Michael grabs them a couple beers and they settle in, eating dinner and watching Parks and Recreation. Alex hopes Michael will ask him to stay the night again, and when he starts to feel fuzzy and sleepy, he checks his phone. Michael clears his throat, says, “You look tired.”

Alex _is_. 

“You should stay the night, Breggie baby.” Michael continues, stroking Alex’s hair. 

“You don’t mind?” He asks, looking up at Michael with doe eyes.

“‘Course not. Come on, B, let’s go to bed.” Michael says, shutting the television off. 

Michael sends Alex upstairs while he turns the lights off, and gets to his room to find Alex laying in the middle of the bed, comforter wrapped around him. His eyes are closed, his clothes in a pile on the floor, and Michael smiles, because Alex looks so _sweet_ and _content_. Michael brushes his teeth in the ensuite and puts his sleep shorts on, sliding into bed behind Alex, untucking the comforter so he can climb under it. Michael wraps an arm around Alex, pulling him flush against his bare chest, and Alex hums softly as Michael kisses his head. 

“Breggie.” Michael whispers, softly kissing Alex’s exposed shoulder.

“Mikey.” Alex mumbles, voice muffled by the pillow.

“I really like you, you know. You mean a lot to me, and you’re very important to me.” Michael says, heart pounding in his chest. 

Alex tenses, then relaxes, and rolls over. “I really like you too.” He says, and he knows he’s probably blushing. 

“I know you do. It hasn’t always been about the sex, you know. It’s nice to spend time with you.” Michael says, kissing Alex’s forehead. 

“I think I love you.” Alex confesses, and then sucks in a breath.

“I think I love you, too.” Michael says, voice full of conviction.

Alex smiles, and rolls back over. Michael is a great big spoon, makes Alex feel _warm_ and _safe_ and _loved_. Alex’s last thought before drifting off to sleep is that sometimes, the most unexpected things in your life are also the _best_ things in your life.

**Author's Note:**

> title to the black keys, and as always, thanks to P for looking this over and encouraging me to write this, although it pretty much wrote itself. i stan soft boys in love.
> 
> regretfully i own nothing here except for the idea of Tamale Lady.


End file.
